


Uphill, through the forest, at night.

by Elkian (SuperImposed)



Series: Whump for the Whumpscord [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Drabble, Gen, M/M, References to Abuse, bc yanno slavery, other people's characters, whumpfill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/Elkian
Summary: A certain someone leaves a party early, and he's taking Allen with him.





	Uphill, through the forest, at night.

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble for my friendos on the Whumpscord. Marlow wears dresses for fun in canon (as well as previously by force) afaik so I didn't tag forced feminization but... yeah.

His feet hurt. Not surprising, they hurt even before he has abandoned the heels in the mud (five miles back? ten? he doesn’t know, can’t know, has to keep going), they hurt at the bright party only a few hours back.

 

He’s still wearing the pretty red dress they’d put him in, the makeup already dripping down his face with exertion and the humidity. Allen’s arms, looped loosely over his shoulders, tangle with the pretty jewelry and polished slave collar and neckline of the pretty, pretty dress.

 

Allen is heavy, all long limbs and dead weight even after they’d spent so long- spent so long  _ starving _ him, and he shudders at the thought and at the cold wind on his sweaty neck and keeps going.

 

He’s never hiked through the woods in his  _ life _ , not even, he thinks, before it all. Certainly not  _ barefoot _ . Maybe losing the shoes wasn’t the best plan, but it’s not like he could have recovered them from the sucking mud at the edge of the little creek without putting Allen down, and if he puts Allen down he may not have the strength to pick him back up again.

 

He may not have the strength to pick himself back up again.

 

Allen’s head shifts, lolling against the back of his neck. A sleepy, somewhat distressed mumble against his skin.

  
“Don’t worry,” the slave - former slave - whispers, low yet giddy. “We’re going to get away. We’re going to be  _ free _ .”


End file.
